


you and i are like high mountains (and we can’t move closer)

by altun



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: After NRC, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Back and forth shift in storytelling, Character Study, Happy or sad ending still not decided, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, What Did I Just Write, You Have Been Warned, a.k.a mutual clownery, alternating povs, probably ended up ooc, well at least i'll try
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24181279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altun/pseuds/altun
Summary: Riddle wondered why his roommate's otherwise normal request elicited such a strong reaction from him.(Oh dear, if only he know...)
Relationships: And other side pairs coming, Azul Ashengrotto/Riddle Rosehearts, Kalim Al-Asim/Jamil Viper
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	1. and left in my palm a lingering splinter of ice

**Author's Note:**

> please enjoy this brainrot offering
> 
> (title taken from Anna Akhmatova's poetry, titled "In Dream", while the chapter title taken from Marina Tsvetaeva's "Bride of Ice")

.

.

.

"Riddle, glaring down at your tart won't make it become sweeter, you know."

"Mmh…" Riddle could only mutter halfheartedly, picking up his cake fork in a moment only to put it down beside the still largely untouched slice of strawberry tart. "...Sorry Trey, Che'nya, seems like I'm not in the mood for tarts today…" 

In an extremely rare event that Riddle’s mom was in a good mood, both Trey and Che’nya were allowed to visit Riddle in this spring holiday. Right now, the three childhood friends were relaxing in Rosehearts family’s private rose garden, trying to make up for the lost times after they went on to their separate paths after college.

“What’s with that, huh? You can _finally_ somehow convince your tiger mom to let us come over here to feed you properly, and then you won’t even touch your long-awaited strawberry tart..”

Che'nya's yellow-green eyes narrowed, clearly suspicious of his childhood friend's strange behavior. He tried to gauge Riddle's reaction by teasingly nudging one of the strawberries with his cake fork, licking his lips as if in preparing to help himself to Riddle's still pristine sweet treat.

Zero reaction.

"Now that's weird..." Now intrigued and worried in equal measure, Che'nya noticed Riddle's slumped shoulders and his mischievous gaze turned mellow, adding on, "Come now, Riddle, what’s up? It’s not like you to just leave Trey’s special tart untouched.”

"Riddle…" Looking at his childhood friend's dejected expression and unusual loss of appetite, Trey's brows creased in worry as he tried to _think_ , "What's wrong? You know that you can tell us if there's something wrong, right?"

.

[It was a beautiful spring night, the time when the bomb shell had been dropped. 

Riddle was in the middle of tidying up his belongings into a suitcase when he heard a series of soft, hesitant knocks on his bedroom’s door. 

"Riddle, do you have a minute?" Riddle looked back at his almost full suitcase, before directing questioning gaze back towards the voice's source.

“There’s… something that I have to talk over with you.”]

.

Hearing Trey’s worried voice and looking at Che’nya’s uncharacteristically sad look, Riddle’s frown deepened as he tried his hardest to put his thoughts into words. “... It’s just… there’s something that have been bothering me for a while,” Riddle’s voice came out with a tinge of frustration, hands folding in front of his chest. 

Trey’s creased eyebrows relaxed as Riddle _finally_ broke from his stupor. “Ah, so there’s some _thing_ weighing on your mind, after all. Come, you can tell us. Maybe we can help somehow. Right, Che’nya?”

Hearing Riddle finally _talk_ after that disconcerting moment of silence, Che’nya’s face visibly brightened as his lips stretched into a small smile. “Yep, yep no need to be shy~”

.

[Riddle went straight to the common room after he was done packing up. 

“Sorry for the wait, I had just finished preparing my belongings for home trip tomorrow.” Riddle sat down on one of the sofas, eyes gazing at the person sitting across him,”What is it that you want to talk over?”]

.

“Um… ” 

“Oho, what’s with that troubled expression? Is our little red boy have a love life problem?”

“Che’nya, you can’t just said it like that!” Trey, half angry and half panicked due to Che’nya’s lack of delicacy, glared at the purple haired young man’s smug face.

“What, you need to stop coddling him Trey. He can’t be your little baby forever, you know...”

“I’m not a baby, for God’s sake!” Riddle, momentarily forgotten by his so-called friends, screamed in embarrassment as his face reddened in his effort to not strangle the main offender. He then hastily added, “Besides, what do you mean by ‘love life problem’? I haven’t even told you anything yet!”

.

[“Ah, there you are, Riddle. Sorry for asking you out of the blue like that.” A bit startled at Riddle’s sudden words, the person seated across Riddle quickly averted his gaze away from the opened book on his lap, meeting Riddle’s gaze with a thin smile.

However, Riddle was not convinced in the slightest: the smile can’t cover up the drooping eyelids, nor did it manage to camouflage the weariness that seeped into his roommate’s dulcet tones.

“... What’s with that smile? You’re being weird tonight.” Riddle’s eyebrows raised momentarily at his roommate’s peculiar expression, trying to bridge the gap between the conflicting facial expression and body language signs.

(His hand itched to reach out towards those creased eyebrows.)]

.

.

“This is about a… friend, back in the university. I feel like he is hiding something from me...”

Both Trey and Che’nya immediately stopped their momentary spat. They waited the continuation of Riddle’s hanging words, but there was none.

_A friend from university? This is certainly new,_ Che’nya raised his eyebrows, interest piqued by Riddle’s sudden admission. Yes, Riddle sometimes told both Che’nya and Trey about his days as a university student. But, Riddle being Riddle, the conversation topic usually won’t stray far from his lessons and his work in the student body.

“Friend? Is it someone we know from Night Raven, or..?” Trey made a mental list of their Night Raven acquaintances, while trying to remember any mentions Riddle had made about a friend. 

A few names that he knew went to the same university as Riddle popped out. 

“I knew it, it _is lov_ \---UGH! What was that for, Trey!? Wait, you know something, don’t you?” Before Che’nya could continue his tactless words, Trey’s elbow already landed on his stomach in record time, silencing the half-cheshire cat.


	2. i don’t know what i want at all, and (perhaps, deep down) i don’t want to know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Riddle struggled to find answer for his current problem. However, even with the help from Trey and Che'nya, the effort instead birthed a visceral question about himself that he himself forgot the existence of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title modified from the English translation of Alberto Caeiro's poem, "O Pastor Amoroso". 
> 
> (Thank you Good Reads for providing quality quotes every single damn time.)

.

.

.

Riddle’s mouth might not utter a single word after that, but with a little observation Trey knew that his question had really hit the mark when he noticed Riddle's eyes widen momentarily and his grip on his cake fork became a fraction tighter. 

_Not willing to tell, huh..._ Over their increasingly scarce face to face meetings after graduating from Night Raven, Trey had noted that the former Heartslabyul dorm head had shown a remarkable progress in keeping his anger level reasonable and his reactions moderate. However, despite the positive changes, there were still some parts that stayed the same throughout their long years of friendship.

_Well, that was somewhat expected, but..._

One of the most troublesome of them was this: despite being notorious as someone that held his ideals in a vice grip, Riddle was lacking, to Trey and his other close friends’ dismay, in self-awareness. While he was excellent in channeling his energy towards outward-looking goals that his role demanded him of, he couldn’t do the same when it concerned his own inner needs and wants. He even unconsciously went the extra mile to repress the hell out of it, so much that everyone else and most likely even Riddle himself didn’t realize that those needs _existed_ in the first place.

While Trey was certainly not a certified expert in the matter of psychology, he at least knew that not having your needs and wants acknowledged _sucked._ Now that Trey thought more about it, it was small wonder that Riddle in their college years ended up becoming a tyrant so unrecognizable from the timid, yet curious boy that Che’nya had introduced him to in the first place. 

_This is not going to be the easy one, huh…_ Trey thought to himself as he witnessed his brilliant and studious childhood friend turned his pretty little head upside down, all because of this so-called ‘friend’ of his that he even refused to tell both Trey and Che’nya more about.

 _Ugh, this is not the ideal course, but seems like Che’nya is right this time…_ As he surmised that the problem won’t solve itself if he kept beating around the bush, Trey decided to take matter into his own hands. Slowly, with practised calmness that he specifically utilized to deal with delicate situations, Trey put a hand on Riddle’s shoulder, deciding to give his childhood friend that much needed little push. 

“Everyone must have a thing or two that they would like to keep hidden. Even the best of friends also have secrets, sometimes.” After a particularly long inhale, Trey’s golden eyes stared right into Riddle’s gray ones as he continued, “Perhaps, before trying to figure out _his_ reasoning, why don't you try some self-reflecting first, about why does it bother _you_ so much?”

.

[“...Hehe, such impatience, Riddle. My my, that innate vigilance of yours really makes hiding anything difficult, huh.” A small grin surfaced on the young man’s face as he faced Riddle’s increasingly impatient expression. 

However, that little display of cheekiness that usually worked like a charm didn’t manage to fool anyone that time: the downwards lilt of the man's sweet voice was not lost on Riddle's keen ears, nor did the somber quality of his gaze that betrayed his teasing words.

“... Stop beating around the bush and tell me already. You know that I hate dawdling.” Riddle urged his roommate to talk, becoming anxious and a tad bit worried at the uncharacteristic nervousness that he saw on the usually self-assured man sitting across him.

“...Do forgive me for the delay, this is… I find this a tad bit difficult to say.” There, another smile thrown in front of his face. Close-lipped, the smile, while outwardly seemed benign, tugged at Riddle’s heartstrings all the wrong way. 

Riddle knew better than to expect direct, honest answer from this man sitting in front of him, but somehow he still can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. _I thought after all this time, we could be more open to each other..._ ]

.

As someone that has decided to pursue further education in the field of law, Riddle had realized the importance of understanding one’s motives in order to fully make sense of one’s course of action. Law was initially made to improve the society's quality of life, after all. Or, perhaps, it was more accurate to say that he at least figured out the logic behind it. However, to understand about something didn’t always mean that doing it would become any easier. This was one of those unfortunate instances.

“...Indeed, you’re right, Trey.” He then exhaled tiredly, suddenly feeling incredulous towards himself for not trying to view his current problem _that_ way, "...Maybe I should start by reviewing back the whole story, I haven't really told you guys much have I..."

"Mmh, good idea! Should’ve done that before, really. Saves you a lot of headache if you just tell us everything from the get go!” Che’nya, who had been recovering from the shock of being hit earlier, suddenly chimed in.

“Che’nya…” Trey glanced at his half-cheshire friend, issuing a mild warning.

“What, I’m right am I not? How the hell are we supposed to help him if we don’t even know the details?”

 _Ah, they’re fighting again…_ Riddle thought as he looked over at another round of Trey and Che’nya’s cat fight, unfolding right in front of his eyes. For the third time just in this single meeting. In his goddamn house yard, no less. _It really is a lucky day, huh… so much noise in here and somehow Mother has not thrown those two out of the house yet..._

If this was his usual self, the mere sight of his few treasured, dear friends fighting like this would tug incessantly at his heartstrings, as he remembered how all those years ago his same dear friends would get into trouble because of him... all just because they decided to play with him despite his mother's clear aversion to it.

However, when he thought more about it, it was still, by far, preferable to whatever _situation_ he and that roommate of his were having right now.

_At least they know what the problem is and can talk it out..._

.

[After a moment of stifling silence, finally, the man sitting across Riddle took a deep breath.

“... After this spring holiday, I’m thinking of moving out.”

The soft words, released alongside a single huff of air, felt like a straight sucker punch to Riddle’s gut.

“...Huh?”]

.

Roommates come and go, that’s a common occurrence. Although the processes are more often than not full of complexities, it’s still, by all means, an inevitable part of life when you decided to share your living space with someone else. 

Even Riddle, who had had very little experience in sharing his personal living space with someone else, could accept that reasoning in a cognitive sense: better opportunities elsewhere, pressing outside circumstances, there are plenty of completely valid, socially acceptable reasons for one to decide on a split up with their current roommate.

However, something still didn’t feel right to Riddle; there’s that incessant pull deep inside him that just outright _balked_ at his roommate’s sudden decision, that visceral part of him that refused to just let the matter go even when he himself knew no better why the hell it did so. _I know that, but..._

“Ah, as I thought, it _is_ indeed a love life problem.” Che’nya blurted out his blunt assessment airily after Riddle _finally_ opened up about the rough outline of his current predicament, tone light as if that single statement didn’t just make Riddle lose all of his shit. 

“H-how so!?” Completely thrown off the bus, Riddle’s mind went to a stand still and his ability to form full, proper sentences evaporated into thin air. 

.

[“W-what? But, this is still in the middle of academic term…”

“I’m aware that this is a reckless and inconsiderate request, and might be inconveniencing you quite a bit. However, please don’t worry about my share of the rent, I have already prepared enough amount until August--”

“Why?” One word from Riddle immediately stopped the man’s words. “... Is there something about me that you’re dissatisfied with? Isn’t suddenly deciding to split up like this without even telling me, your roommate, the cause, is rude?”

“I apologize if it seems like that to you. However, I have… my own reason to not disclose it to you. Please understand." Riddle's roommate gave him an apologetic, fragile smile in lieu of a clear, straightforward answer that Riddle truly wanted from him at the moment. 

When there were no further rebuttals from Riddle, he then further added, as if trying to alleviate the shock from his sudden decision. “However, Riddle, I can at least assure you this much: this is by no means your fault. Believe it or not, in spite of our frequent little run-ins, being roommates with you is… fun.” However, instead of achieving their intended purpose, the words only served to throw Riddle’s mind further into a downward spiral of why, why, _why_ that made his head spin. 

“... Sorry, I need some time to think. I’m going to my room.” Feeling faint all of a sudden, Riddle decided to shove down his persistent urge to protest and just excused himself from their conversation. 

“...Alright. Please, sleep well, and... safe trip for tomorrow.”]

.

"Okay, let me rephrase this first. You, Got all this agitated. Just because your roommate decided to part ways with you. On good terms, no less. He even gave you time to consider, which is quite fair in my book.” Che’nya addressed his stunned friend slowly, punctuating the words for emphasis. When he saw that his friend hadn’t really caught up with his points, his expression gradually morphed into one of pity. “C'mon, it's not like both of you are partners or something, right? What’s with that long face?"

"W-well, of course I'm angry! It's so sudden and he even refused to tell me the goddamn reason, of course anyone in my position would be weirded out by that…" Taken aback by Che’nya’s pitying expression, Riddle’s mind scrambled to arrange word, arguments, _anything really_ , but even deep down he found it hard to believe in them.

Come to think of it, he _at least_ knew that whatever the reason was, his roommate had said that it was not his fault. And he knew that while his roommate was many things, he was certainly not the type that will easily feel sorry for anyone, so Riddle was pretty certain that his roommate didn't try to baby him with his answer. But, _Why?_

“Well, he _did_ say it, right? That whatever his reason was, it was certainly not because of your shitty performance as a roommate. You’re not guilty of anything, Riddle, really, _if_ that’s what you’re worrying about.” That quip shut Riddle’s hanging words abruptly, while Che’nya continued. “Anyway, isn’t it his own loss that he now has to look for a new room in the middle of academic term while he also still has to pay for his share of the rent until August? Honestly, you really have nothing to lose here, so just let it go~” 

Trey, thoroughly listening to both of his childhood friends running in circles, could only pinch his bridge of the nose and sighed. However, as Riddle pondered on Che’nya’s question with no end in sight, Trey had found that their three-way conversation once again came to a grinding halt. 

In the midst of pregnant silence, Trey found that a sense of guilt began to crept up to him, the heavy feeling brought him back to _that one time_ when he couldn’t do a single thing as he watched Riddle drown, drown, _drown_ in his pent-up years of frustration, almost losing his own life in the process. _Again, huh? Bottling up his private doubts and worries, brushing it up under the rug until he couldn’t anymore.._

Trey omitted a long, weary sigh as he looked up to the sky above, the previously blue-white hues already turning into shades of red and orange. Realizing how much time had passed during their conversation, Trey was not surprised when his eyes caught someone’s image already approaching towards their direction. “Che’nya. Since it’s already quite late, I think that it’s time for us to go for now.” He glanced at his now pouting half-cheshire friend, before averting his gaze to Riddle. He then said, “Sorry, Riddle. We ended up not helping you much this time. Please, don’t hesitate to give me or Che’nya a call if you need anything.”

Riddle gave both of his friends a small, sad smile as he also noticed that two of the house’s maid were already approaching close to them. “Ah, it seems like time’s up. No, it’s me who should apologize for using our rare time together for trivial matter like that, but… Thank you Trey, Che’nya, for listening, anyway. And also.. for the tart, of course.”

“Anytime, little Riddle~ Don’t stress about it too much, okay? This is holiday, after all, you should let yourself relax~” Che’nya waved his hand and gave Riddle his signature grin, before walking towards Trey’s side, one of the maids escorting both of them towards the residence’s gates. Riddle waved back to both of them until their retreating backs vanished behind the gates.

.

.

“Young Master, the Mistress will expect your presence at the drawing room tonight, at 8.00 PM.” The maid that stayed by Riddle’s side informed him of his mother’s message. 

The maid’s polite, dull words immediately brought Riddle back to his current reality. The small smile on his lips was immediately replaced by a thin, flat line as he forcibly shoved his partially untangled thoughts and feelings from conversation earlier to the innermost corner of his mind. _Drawing room, huh… Means that there are going to be guests coming here tonight..._

Riddle’s gray eyes were guarded, sharp when he addressed the maid. “Alright. Please make the appropriate preparation.” Then, Riddle walked towards the direction of the residence building, the maid following behind him from a polite distance.

“As you wish, Young Master.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still debating with myself whether obscuring the identity of Riddle's roommate is the right move...
> 
> This update is a little bit faster than what I expect (one week), so, yay. However, since I'm going to use chapter 3 as preparation to shift the POV from Riddle to his roommate, expect the next chapter to be released in longer timespan than this one. 
> 
> (Btw, regarding the roommate, I had put some hints to his identity in this chapter, what do you think about it?) 
> 
> Last but not least, thank you for even consider reading this vague brainrot child. I really appreciate it, so much that I finished this in record time.
> 
> Regards,  
> altun


	3. morning without you is a dwindled dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the morning inevitably comes, Riddle knows that he needs to really address the elephant in the room.
> 
> (Not that it will be an easy matter to solve. The person on the other side of the problem might even make it more difficult).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from one of Emily Dickinson's quotes.

The sky was extremely cloudy in that morning, not something pretty common for a spring day. Bitterly, Riddle thought that some of the clouds also somehow managed to hang themselves on top of his head, turning his already not-so-great mood persisting from last night downright miserable.

It was already 8.00 AM when Riddle finished his preparation, already dressed in simple black shirt and slacks for his not-so-anticipated Easter home trip. With all of his necessities neatly packed into his suitcase, he still had one hour before his designated chauffeur from home arrived at his doorstep to pick him up. Deciding that there was a lot of time to spare, he decided to wait at the apartment’s kitchen, expecting to strike up a conversation or two with his roommate regarding last night’s matter; at least so that he would be able to alleviate some of his confusion.

However, when he opened his room’s door, his roommate was nowhere to be found. 

_ Huh, I thought  _ he’s  _ already back from morning exercise...  _ Riddle mused, not so amusedly, at the lack of his roommate’s presence in their shared kitchen. While Riddle prided himself as an early riser, his roommate was even more of a morning person than him, usually already presentable at this hour after doing morning exercise. Thus, looking at the unusual lack of activity in their shared living space somehow managed to rub Riddle off the wrong way, moreso when he remembered their disastrous conversation last night. 

.

.

[There was this routine that he had unknowingly fell into, every single morning since he started living with this roommate of his. It went on, more or less, like this: right when he, already dressed appropriately for his activities for the day, opened his room’s door, he could already hear the sound of someone humming and cooking utensils clashing, mingling with the sound of birds chirping just outside their shared maisonette apartment. 

He, never one to be so carefree and let his roommate did all the work, would then walked towards the kitchen drawer, first taking out tablecloth and dining utensils then arranging them on their dining table. Then, as per the tradition that had been drilled into his mind ever since as long as he could remember, Riddle would take his teapot and walk over to the stove to boil some water to brew their morning tea, intending to fill the kettle perched on the stove.

However, Riddle would once again find out that the kettle was, in fact, already filled with water. All he had to do was just turn the stove on and wait until the water boiled.

(Sometimes, when he was alone with his thoughts, Riddle would question his own very questionable decision to not just use magic to fill his teapot with boiled water. He was quite confident in his practical magic skills, after all. Hell, he could even use it as some kind of training regimen…) 

Then, petulantly, Riddle would look at the man standing beside him, who was busy cooking their breakfast of the day. He would mumble his displeasure at the unwarranted assistance, that he could at least prepare their morning tea without any help as he refused to just let himself being pampered without putting in his contribution for their two-men household.

His roommate, being a cheeky, insufferable man that he was, had no hesitation in meeting Riddle’s side glance head-on, impish smile already plastered handsomely in response to his pouting face. After he finished cooking their dish, he would then take a little jab at Riddle's pride, saying something along the lines of "That's not how you're supposed to show gratitude, but still, you're welcome". Then, the initial tension would eventually melt as both of them were engaged in mini banters as they waited for the water to boil and Riddle put the tea leaves into the infuser. 

Deep down, Riddle thought of  _ that  _ little moment as one of his day’s highlights; as a little kick that never failed to lift his spirit up to face whatever hurdle that might wait. __

(Not that he would tell his roommate that, obviously; someone really ought to teach that man some measure of humility, after all.)]

.

.

However, when Riddle walked over to the dining table, he found out that the table was already arranged for one person. Not only that, there were also a plate of strawberry pancakes and a cup of earl grey tea waiting for him. 

After a closer look, Riddle noticed that both the pancake and the tea were still warm, which raised a question mark in his mind. His eyebrows raised as he tried to think of the possible explanations,  _ Huh, when did he cook this, and why I didn’t notice? Or, did he keep this warm with magic? Hmm... _ While he mulled over the peculiarity, Riddle found a little piece of paper carefully folded beneath the plate.

> Just think of this as an apology for last night, that was quite unbecoming of me to suddenly spring such decision towards you without any preamble.
> 
> P.S: The pancake would go straight into the trash bin if you decide to be a baby and not eat it. 

Riddle eyed the note with a tinge of frustration, feeling his initial irritation further bubbling at his roommate's decision to take the cowardly way out.  _ Running away from direct confrontation huh… Well, kind of expected but it still make me angry for some reason…  _

After a quick look at his watch, Riddle let out an indignant huff then decided to sit down, eyeing his breakfast intensely as he weighed down his options. He then took a look once more at the message written on the paper, his stubbornness finally melting away.  _ Oh well, whatever, it’s bad manners to waste a good food, no matter whether it was made by a jerk...  _ Deciding that he still have 30 minutes to spare, Riddle relented and began to dig into the infuriatingly delectable breakfast. 

.

After washing the dishes and making sure nothing was out of order, Riddle locked his apartment’s door and went downstairs, walking towards the direction of the building's exit door. Right in front of the pedestrian, there was already a black sedan waiting for him. Seeing that his chauffeur already arrived, Riddle quickly whipped out his smartphone and typed something in haste, before getting into the car’s backseat.

.

.

.

.

It was already 8.00 AM, when Riddle heard a series of knocks on his bedroom door, and let out a drawn out sigh. While he fell asleep right away after he and his mother finally finished attending to their guests at 11.00 PM, the rest was hardly satisfactory as his brain won’t stop working itself out even then; how could he, when his thought was filled to the brim with the matter regarding said guests  _ and  _ the predicament with his roommate?

Because of such thing, it was no wonder that despite the nice weather outside, Riddle’s mood was rather cloudy in this particular morning. Riddle said to the person waiting on the other side of bedroom door, faint trace of impatience could be heard from his tone. "Hhh… Fine, you may enter. Please make it quick." 

The door opened, and an elderly man entered the room with a tea cart. He bowed reverently before Riddle's standing figure, before opening his mouth. "Good morning, Young Master. Apologize for interrupting your time, but I’m here to deliver your morning tea."

"Ah, it’s you, James.. Sorry for lashing out like that..." 

“No problem, Young Master. You must be still tired from last night’s events, after all.” The elderly man called James smiled knowingly. “Please, relax while I prepare your morning tea.” He then moved to prepare the utensils, but before his gloved hands touched the teapot, Riddle's voice stopped him in his tracks. 

"No need. Let me prepare it by myself."

As if pleased with Riddle’s little initiative but also a bit worried, James then stepped aside, giving way to the young man while still eyeing the tea set in anticipation of unintended accident. "Alright Young Master, if you say so. Please be careful, the water is still piping hot."

Riddle then walked to the cart, scooping loose white tea leaves into the tea infuser.  _ Thank God it’s white tea, maybe this will help with my exhaustion a little bit... _ Then, with a little bit of caution, Riddle asked his butler. "Last night, Mother said to me that she probably would need to go to the main residence early in the morning... Did she already depart?"

A thin, knowing smile formed on his wrinkled face as the butler calmly answered. "Yes, Young Master. Mistress had just departed a few moments ago, as a matter of fact. However, she also said that it’s probable that she would pick you up along with her later, most likely in the afternoon. Is something the matter?"

The news seemed to calm Riddle down, his tense shoulders visibly relaxing after he heard his butler’s affirmation. For a fraction of second, his gaze was directed towards his smartphone on the nightstand.  _ Perhaps, it would be okay to open it now... _ With a sliver of hesitation, as if the act was something out-of-bounds to him. Riddle then addressed his butler. “Ah, no, nothing of importance. However, James, since Mother is currently away, I would like you--”

“To bring your breakfast up here? Sure thing, Young Master. It would be a waste to set up the dining table if it’s only you that will use it, anyway.” James immediately continued the stilted sentence, as if sensing Riddle’s nervousness and his gaze that frequently wandered towards the nightstand’s direction. Then, he smiled good-naturedly to his master, further encouraging the young man as he continued his sentence. “Worry not, Young Master, Mistress won’t be informed of this arrangement. I, James, will make sure of that.”

“... Thank you James, I appreciate your consideration.”

Smile taking on a jovial note, James then let out a delighted laugh. “Hohoho, please think nothing of it. You also need your rest from time to time after all, Young Master.” He then walked towards the door, intending to give Riddle his long sought-after privacy. “Well then, if you would excuse me. Please wait while I prepare your breakfast.” 

_Breakfast preparation_ _usually takes up to 30 minutes, means that I’m free for that much time…_ Riddle’s mind worked up the mental math of his free time estimation for the day.

After Riddle graduated from Night Raven, his mother started to delegate some of the estate’s affairs to him when he went home, that usually keep him busy from after breakfast until afternoon. Moreover, his graduation also marked up a sharp increase in large social events that his mother had shoved him into, along with countless smaller meetings with his mother’s associates and their families that took up most of his evenings.

Those activities made his holidays didn’t feel much like a time to rest, thus turning every free minutes he had into something really valuable. 

(Riddle silently lamented how his meeting with Trey and Che’nya yesterday went; so little time, so much effort went to adjust their busy schedules, and yet he wasted it on his own trivial problem. He had to think of a way to make it up to them somehow…) 

Thanking his butler’s sensibility to squeeze in a little bit of time for him, Riddle then hastily grabbed his smartphone, turning it on. However, when he checked his phone notification, his nervous face slowly morphed into a panicked one. He instantly regretted his decision to open his phone at that very moment.

“Oh no, how do I respond to this…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, next chapter I will reveal the other half of the main pair (and also planning on adding some side pairs). 
> 
> Sorry for the somewhat lackluster end notes, my brain juice is already depleted by the time I finished this chapter, as I also used it to work on my undergrad thesis (yay). Will have some free time while I wait for the thesis' evaluation, so I might have some more time to work on this fic. I think after writing three chapters I can estimate that the average release time per chapter would be 1-2 weeks.
> 
> As usual, if this fic managed to pique your attention, do consider to throw some feedbacks and/or questions into the comment section if you have some time and brain juice to spare. I'm especially intrigued about how well this whole roommate-identity-reveal thing and the usage of side OCs (James and others that I will use for the sake of advancing the story) work. Thank you so much for reading.
> 
> Regards,  
> altun


	4. a short bridge between wanting and regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the bright, pleasant spring morning, Azul reflected on the aftermath of his decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from Dimpellumpzki, by Richelle E. Goodrich.

.

.

.

.

“Nnh… Make it stop...”

The young man laying on the bed could feel his head pounding incessantly as his eyes slowly opened up. His smartphone was still ringing alarm non-stop, with sound further amplified than usual as he left it situated so close to his head. 

“Ugh...how come it’s already 6 in the morning…” One grumpy Azul Ashengrotto lamented, as he tried his darndest to extract himself from his self-made blanket burrito. Vision blurry and mind not fully awake, he struggled quite some time before he managed to unlock it and turned the offending noise off.

The sight of his latest chat with his roommate, still not read and replied, immediately pulled out a long, drawn sigh out of his mouth. _As I thought, still no reply… Perhaps escaping from him yesterday morning was a wrong move after all..._

Even with his mind already sleep-deprived and so _tired_ , the long, one-sided messages managed to remind Azul of _that_ disastrous conversation he had two nights ago with Riddle. 

.

[“...Do forgive me for the delay, this is… I find this a tad bit difficult to say.” Trying to alleviate his sudden urge to bail out of the conversation, Azul put on his business smile to stretch out the little time he had to compose himself. _Don’t panic, Azul, don’t chicken out now, you_ need _this..._

It was already quite late at night, when Azul finally steeled his resolve to inform Riddle of his plan to move out from their shared apartment. In a few days leading to this moment, he had painstakingly ruminated on the matter endlessly, trying to convince himself that _yes, this is the_ **_only_ ** _way to go around it, yep, gotta go before I accidentally go to the point of no return._

(There was a part of him, small, irrational, and yet utterly honest, that actually never wanted to went through with the plan in the first place.)

Noticing Riddle’s increasingly impatient body language, Azul realized that it was time, and he took a deep breath as he tried to compose himself through the inevitable. _Okay, I guess this is it. Time to get the cat out of the fucking bag._ “... After this spring holiday, I’m thinking of moving out.”]

.

Sighing once again, Azul took his time to properly sit on his bed, combing his bed hair with his fingers as he tried to organize his jumbled thoughts.

When he looked back at the exact moment the words left his mouth, logically there should be no problem: he managed to deliver his message in concise words with tone as neutral as he could manage under pressure; he didn’t hesitate or-god forbid-stutter through his words; and he managed to stare straight into Riddle’s eyes, conveying his seriousness and forcibly forcing his damnable instinct to just retcon this whole debacle and pretend that he never considered this option in the first place.

(Well… they became roommates in the first place _only_ to fulfill the weird requirement set by the landlord anyway… 

He had imagined that Riddle, rid of the annoyance that had devoured every ounce of his patience on a daily basis, would be ecstatic at the sheer prospect; he can have the apartment all to himself for the rest of their tenancy year like what he had originally planned for, after all. 

And for Azul himself, well… the separation would provide him more time and space to think… about something that Riddle had no business knowing, of course. 

Would be best scenario for everyone involved if it stayed that way, honestly.)

.

[However, what he had thought out as a foolproof plan quickly crumbled to dust the moment he noticed Riddle’s usually sharp eyes unpredictably softened at the edges, saucer-wide as utterly taken aback by Azul’s supposedly most convenient arrangement proposal.

(There was something _else_ lurking beneath those eyes. Something that Azul didn’t even _dare_ to consider.)]

.

Azul perfectly knew that it was not in his mental health’s best interest to make any assumptions about the intention behind his ignored texts, especially not with Riddle’s true response of it still up in the air.

However, living up to his ‘always have a plan behind your plan’ credo, the octopus merman still ended up doing that very same thing that would end up blowing what little peace of mind that remained out of the window.

"Damn, why did I fail to consider _that_ outcome…"

As his mind kept playing _that_ exact moment of realization that his stupid plan was falling apart, his inner voice repeatedly hurled curses after curses to his dumb brain that failed to concoct a damn back up plan when he desperately needed it. 

_Okay Azul, calm down… You_ can _fix this later, now onto the usual routine..._ After slapping himself in the face a few times to stop the downward panic spiral, he finally managed to get a little hang of himself. In an attempt to try gaining at least a fraction of his control back, he then began his daily morning routine: he went to the toilet, then changed into exercise clothes and put on his sneakers, preparing for his much-needed dose of morning run and fresh air.

Just before exiting the maisonette apartment, Azul’s gaze lingered on the closed door situated just before the apartment room’s entry. He had half a mind to knock once or twice at the door bearing Riddle’s name sign.

(If this was their usual weekend, in some occasions he would invite Riddle along to his daily morning exercise. 

He perfectly knew that Riddle already had his own exercise routine in the evening, but Azul figured that morning walks did wonders to reduce one’s stress level. Riddle could _really_ use that after spending the whole week buried in text after text… Not that he had any ulterior motives or anything, of course. Just trying to be more courteous to his roommate, yup.) 

However, Azul withdrew his hand from the wooden surface in the last second. Lopsided, bitter smile made its way to his face as realization hit him at the moment, that right now he was the sole occupant of their apartment.

_What the hell am I doing..._

.

[“W-what? But, this is still in the middle of academic term…”

Riddle’s voice was a poor, broken thing that stabbed through Azul’s unprepared heart like a goddamn knife coated with paralyzing poison. 

Azul had braced himself for quite a lot of possibilities in regards to his sudden request to Riddle, putting his roommate’s no-nonsense personality into calculation: utter surprise, ridicule, a little bit of anger because of the unexpected element of surprise, bewilderment, indifference, relief, you name it. 

However, _the_ fragile, vulnerable reaction that he himself even not sure what words to refer it with was 180 degrees reverse from all the responses that Azul had braced himself for, and it was practically eating away at his remaining thinking prowess rapidly as the seconds ticked by.]

.

_Morning air and sunlight_ really _do wonders to your ability to think,_ Azul thought, the suffocating sensation of panic gripping his mind slowly dissipated as he went on with his morning run. As his feet brought him running across the long, paved neighborhood’s pedestrian, Azul’s mind, already used to working non-stop 24/7, went on to ruminate over his most recent Terrible Life Choice, searching for the red thread that would lead to a way to mitigate its damage. 

Curiously enough, the first thing that came into his mind was the very principle that became the background for his action. Complimentary to his deeply-ingrained habit of planning his every single steps ahead, Azul also lived by ‘victory goes to the swift’ saying: believing that above all those careful preparations, it was one’s ability to spot and seize the momentum, or perhaps the more familiar wording would be ‘trend’, that truly decided one’s success and failure. 

That belief had made itself apparent in many ways that Azul approached numerous challenges that he had took upon himself to conquer: be it new business ventures or new opportunities to widen his network and public influence, he made it no secret that he put ‘trend’ into the forefront consideration in building his success strategies. There were a few things he hated more than regret due to missed opportunities due to timid hesitation, after all. 

And so far, the value of things he managed to get from his calculated gambling schemes _always_ outweighed the perceived risk that seemed so daunting up front. (Well, _almost_. There was that one certain overblot incident, but that was an exception okay? A one-time error barely worthy of mention, surely.) 

Because of that deep-entrenched belief, further emboldened by past successes, at that time it seemed to Azul that it was a no-brainer to soldier on and continued to press his case on Riddle, despite the early signs of rejection clearly apparent from the time his first words were out.

(However, in hindsight, he thought that should had done damage assessment first. 

Now, completely blindsided and left more confused than ever, Azul thought, that maybe, he should have considered tactical retreat before everything blew up spectacularly in his face.) 

.

[“I’m aware that this is a reckless and inconsiderate request, and might be inconveniencing you quite a bit. However, please don’t worry about my share of the rent, I have already prepared enough amount until August--”

“Why?” Riddle’s question, asked in a small voice yet infused with so much _hurt_ in it, made it felt like Azul’s remaining words had turned into ashes, clogging his throat. “... Is there something about me that you’re dissatisfied with? Isn’t suddenly deciding to split up like this without even telling me, your roommate, the cause, is rude?”

_Huh, what’s with that response, where did I go wrong? What details that I missed!?_ It felt to Azul like his braincells were dying one by one, as he struggled to understand Riddle’s emotionally charged response. “I apologize if it seems like that to you. However, I have… my own reason to not disclose it to you. Please understand."]

_._

Feeling inordinately exhausted after running for some time, Azul decided to take a breather at the closest bench he could find, feeling that his calf and thigh muscles were already protesting. However, as ragged breath heaving in and out of his mouth, Azul’s mind drifted back to _that one_ part of their conversation. The single moment that haunted him the most, in one way and another.

. 

[Maybe it was his overwhelmed brain that decided to shut down, maybe it was his tongue, desperate to let itself loose. 

Or maybe it was his heart, lodged deep in his chest, throbbing painfully as if responding to the somber light reflected on Riddle's gray eyes. Pounding, vibrating, asking for the owner of those eyes to just _please stop, don't look at me, not with eyes like that._

The phantom pressure squeezing within, the words that were struggling to be let out from Azul's trembling lips were, wretched, honest little things. They were the kind of words that Azul would surely regret later, not one that he would even let slip out, if only his brain was working properly.

"However, Riddle, I can at least assure you this much: this is by no means your fault. Believe it or not, in spite of our frequent little run-ins, being roommates with you is… fun.”

The second after those words were omitted, the atmosphere between two people sitting in the room thickened as a stifling silence came upon them.

And, as if responding to Azul’s own pessimistic self-prophecy, Riddle suddenly stood up from his seat, face downward and eyes hidden from view by his bangs. With his lips set in a thin, flat line, it was clear to Azul that Riddle was about to say something towards him (probably something that was raw and upsetting in equal measure), but decided not to in the very last second. 

Azul tried not to think about how much that non-response stung, as he tried to console himself that this was, too, totally an expected response. 

“... Sorry, I need some time to think. I’m going to my room.” Azul watched, exercising every little bit of his self control to not further compromise the fragile situation as Riddle abruptly retreated to his room, his usually impeccable posture slumped and his usual clear voice wavered. 

In a rare showcase of prudence combined with prolonged restrain, Azul swallowed back the rest of his secrets, bury them back all the way to the deepest recesses of his mind and cover them all with a few words and a shaky smile thrown towards Riddle’s retreating back.

“...Alright. Please, sleep well, and... safe trip for tomorrow.”]

.

Azul’s brows were raised as he checked his watch, just realizing that he had gone overboard with his exercise routine. _Huh, I ran for more than 2 hours? That explains the muscle fatigue…_ He mused absentmindedly as in this very moment, his aching, shaking leg was the least of his concerns.

Now that he had had his rest, Azul finally took notice of his surrounding. When he was lost in his own thought, it was clear that he already ventured further than where he usually went for his morning run: instead of familiar red bricked buildings and sidewalks in a sleepy, quaint residential area, what greeted his eyes was a downtown scene consisted of shops that had just opened, people slowly but surely trickling down to the streets surrounding him.

_Uwa… this is quite far from our place, gonna be a pain to walk back in this state…_ Azul let out a long-suffering sigh. _There’s no use going back quickly, anyway..._

(Not only his legs hurt like crazy, the image of an empty, large apartment also didn’t seem very appealing to him, somehow.)

“Ah. Looks like there’s something going over there…” There was a crowd gathering just a few feets away from the bench in which Azul sat. After a few fleeting glances at passing people walking away with shopping bags filled with groceries, Azul surmised that the people was most likely gathering around an open booth. _To think of it, I remembered someone telling me about this weekend booth that sells one-of-a-kind, quality food products for a bargain…_

“Hmm, interesting. Maybe I might find something there...” Standing up from the bench, Azul decided to walk over to the crowded booth, a sliver of a smirk appeared on his face at the prospect of getting his hand on exotic food products to experiment on.

Azul’s legs strolled on the pavement as his head was filled with what-ifs recipes and concepts to work on, problem plaguing his mind just a minute ago forgotten if only for a brief moment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fyuh, finally finished with this one~ Sorry for the late release, I'm rather preoccupied with my undergrad thesis right now...
> 
> So... there you have it, finally revealed the other half of the pair (probs not much of a surprise for those familiar with me on tumblr, but well, whatever). I'm not really sure about the delivery, but I guess it's better to move on and not risk getting into another writing's block because of ruminating about it too much... 
> 
> As usual, thank you so much for giving this fic a read! If this fic managed to pique your attention, do consider to throw some feedbacks and/or questions into the comment section. 
> 
> Regards,  
> altun


	5. a goodbye is much harder to handle than a meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Initially planning to walk back to his now-lonely apartment, Azul's feet instead bring him towards another direction; towards familiar faces from his past. 
> 
> (Little does he know, that little detour turns out to be his much-needed wake-up call.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Sorry for the late update

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jamil had just finished tying up his shoelaces, planning to replenish his food produce supply at the weekend booth just a few blocks away when he heard ringing sounds from the direction of his apartment’s door.

_ Huh, a guest on a campus holiday like this? Who could this be, I don’t remember any appointment whatsoever…  _ Jamil tried to catalogue his schedule in his head, searching for anything that mentioned something about someone coming to his apartment. 

(While he finally managed to begin paving the way to realize his long-coveted wish of becoming independent from his family’s legacy of servitude, that did little to change his secretive tendencies. 

Preferring to limit too-close interactions with people that he had no business mingling with, uninterrupted privacy in his designated free time remained one of Jamil’s highest priority that he tried his hardest not to compromise.) 

Thus, an unexpected guest arriving on his doorstep without prior notice was, to put it shortly… annoying. With a frown on his face, Jamil walked towards his apartment’s door with apprehension.

As he arrived right in front of the door’s handle with a magical pen ready in one hand, Jamil turned the intercom on, fully expecting to see some suspicious stranger’s face staring back at the camera. “Good morning. I don’t recall having an appointment today, would you please state your business being here?”

However, it turned out it was a familiar face that greeted Jamil on the other side of the door. 

The familiarity took uneasy tension off Jamil’s shoulders for a few, precious seconds. However, looking at the closed-lipped, saccharine smile plastered on his guest's face, urges to roll his eyes and pretend that the guest didn't exist in the first place were surfacing at an alarmingly fast rate; almost too strong for Jamil to resist.

“Good morning, Jamil. I hope you wouldn’t mind me visiting without prior appointment?”

_ You perfectly know that I do  _ mind _ , you slimy octopus, your slimy face said it all. Do me a favor and leave this instant.  _ Azul’s staple smiling face brought along a slew of unpleasant memories of the white-haired man being an annoyance throughout their college days. 

“Woah, Jamil, I’m wondering where you have been, but turns out we have a guest!” However, it seemed like today was not the black haired man’s lucky day, as before Jamil had had the chance to turn his back and conveniently ignore the annoyance standing on the other side of his apartment door, suddenly there were a pair of arms encircling his neck from behind, effectively trapping him with no way to escape. 

_ There goes my beautiful weekend morning, I guess... _

“Kalim, don’t latch onto me like that, you haven’t taken a shower since arriving here yesterday. You stink.” The black haired man rolled his eyes, unabashedly voicing his complaint to the man behind him. However, contrary to his words, Jamil never made any real effort to release Kalim’s hold on him.

“Ehehe, my bad~” Kalim’s lips stretched out lazily into an easy smile as he responded to his boyfriend’s complaint, but his arms never let go. He then peeked through Jamil’s shoulder, eyes transfixed at the intercom’s screen. “Oh, Azul! Hi, long time no see~ Why don’t you come in?” 

“Oi!”

“Oh, if it isn’t another familiar face, Kalim! I thought you’re in your home country right now…” Azul’s smile seemed to widen a fraction at Kalim’s easy invitation. Jamil, now halfway pressured to open the door for their irksome acquaintance, resisted the urge to gag at the sheer charade dripping from Azul’s mannerism. 

"Hey, Azul, this is your own fault for coming here unannounced, but right now I have to go--" 

Azul presented his full shopping bag in front of the camera, low key bragging about his exploits at the booth earlier. "The food produce booth right? I think there's no use to go there right now, Jamil. The products were already sold out; I was only this close of missing out and just barely able to squeeze my way in by pure chance…"

Kalim’s eyes instantly brightened when he peeked at the intercom screen, noticing some of Azul’s various purchases peeking out from the bag. “Wow, all of them look delicious, Azul! Let’s enjoy all of them together!” 

“With pleasure, Kalim! Sharing this is the least I could do to repay your gracious hospitality, after all.” 

"..Ugh… why did I sleep so late last night…" Jamil grimaced at his misstep, mumbling to himself about regretting his terrible life choices last night while sparing a sideway glance at his boyfriend’s sunny face.  _ Aah, no, this is going to be troublesome… I can feel it in my bones... _ Jamil internally grimaced, preparing himself for the incoming headache as Kalim grabbed the door’s knob.

.

“Okay, since you have come here anyway, we might as well listen to what you have to say… So, what do you want?” Without much preamble, Jamil opened up their three-way conversation, sparing a few cursory glances towards his guest.

“Jamil, why the rush? Azul had just entered, why not sit and relax over a cup of tea first?” Kalim gave Jamil one of his trademark hospitable smiles, automatically taking over the role of a host as he walked over to the kitchen and started preparing tea. “Azul, Jamil, please, sit while I prepare the tea!”

Jamil, already way too familiar with Kalim’s antics, could only sigh as he knew that stopping his boyfriend at this point was impossible. Sour-faced, Jamil unenthusiastically pointed to the living room’s direction, where a sheet of hand knotted oriental rug and a few bean bags were already arranged on the floor. 

Azul was positively beaming at Kalim’s warm reception, clapping his hands in apparent delight. “My, as expected of Jamil, what a wonderful showcase of hospitality! Ah, yes, I almost forgot...” Faux-cheer attitude still intact, Azul then showed his full shopping bag to Jamil. “As promised before, here, you can use these food products I got from the weekend booth…”

“Ah, yes, you  _ did  _ promise to share that spoils of yours… “ Jamil’s eyebrows raised as he inspected the bag’s contents. “Hmph, you show up with something interesting huh… Fine, I’ll see what we can do with these.” 

“Hehe, of course, I don’t like having debt in principle, after all. Also, do let me help. It would be very rude of me to let you and Kalim do all the work, right?”

_. _

(For one Jamil Viper, hearing one Azul Ashengrotto spending minutes after minutes ranting about something so personal was very unexpected in its sheer improbability.) 

“I tried to think again and again, in which way I accidentally might tick him off. Think of it, Jamil, Kalim! I had said that I’m going to take responsibility for the remaining months’ payment so that I won’t cause him any kind of inconvenience. Then, I also told him that I wanted to move out purely because of my own circumstances, completely unrelated to his lack of performance or anything!” 

Azul took a long breath in-between his tirade, pinching the bridge of his nose in obvious display of distress. “All those efforts, rehearsing and thinking through my words in advance over and over again, so that his absurd sense of responsibility won’t be disturbed by it… All in vain! Just where did I go wrong…”

Hearing the agitation in Azul’s long recount, Jamil was at a loss for words. Since both he and Azul happened to interact routinely due to lounge-related business, Jamil at least knew that Azul had a roommate. However, due to their different posts and Jamil’s own conscious efforts to minimize non-work related interactions with Azul (and all other people, mind you), it never occurred to him that Riddle, of all people, was  _ the  _ roommate. 

.

(Jamil thought that his surprise as something warranted, considering the kind of people both he and Azul were: as someone with an affinity to think in the currency of schemes and secrets, while Jamil fully understood the importance of keeping tabs on every single relevant intel regarding your surroundings, guarding  _ yours  _ closer was even more important than that; the possibility of giving the other any kind of information that can later be exploited as a weakness was not really an attractive prospect for both of them.

Thus, there was this unspoken agreement between them: to not prod and pry too far, not to linger closer than necessary.)

.

_ Really… these two people… how could they even... _

Finally, after a stifling moment of silence, Jamil replied to Azul in his signature monotone, tired-of-your-shit mode. “Wow, sounds like a lot of work. How  _ and  _ why the hell both of you even become roommates in the first place anyway… This is absurd even for your standard. Really.” 

“Aaaah, shut up! I don't want to hear that from you!”

Hearing Azul’s petulant response after he had so  _ graciously  _ lent an ear for him to vent, Jamil was just  _ this close  _ to flung the nearest beanbag lying around to the octopus mermaid’s face. “Oi, what do you mean by ‘from you’ remark huh? Care to explain?”

“Now, now, Jamil, calm down… Let’s listen to Azul’s story first, yes?”

.

After being mostly silent throughout Azul’s long, emotionally-charged story (aside from a few attempts at placating Jamil’s exasperated responses), Kalim finally voiced out his own thoughts on the matter

“Um, Azul, could it be that Riddle is mad because he doesn’t want to be left by  _ you _ ?” Kalim’s eyes blinked a few times as he said his question, utterly bamboozled by Azul and Jamil’s roundabout way in assessing the predicament. 

“No way.” Azul and Jamil said simultaneously, utterly bewildered by the very idea that  _ the  _ rule-abiding, socially responsible Riddle would even  _ miss  _ someone like Azul, that made it his personal credo to exploit every nook and cranny of said rules to reap maximum profit for himself. 

(Hell, even sometimes Azul wondered to himself why Riddle hadn’t had any words with their landlord yet, considering the obscene amount of teasing and prodding that Azul had knowingly hurled onto him around the year of their shared tenancy.) 

“Huh? Why? If I were him I would feel at least a bit lonely too if my long-time roommate suddenly decided to leave…” Kalim paused his sentence, face scrunched in deep concentration as he pondered on something. However, just a short moment after, suddenly his head perked up as if he had just figured something. “Ah! But come to think of it, there’s something weird...”

_ Uh-oh, what’s with that reaction. I have a bad feeling about this…  _ Azul’s smile was stretched uncomfortably as he responded to Kalim’s exclamation. “...Yes, Kalim?”

“...Azul… all these times you only talk about Riddle’s reaction to your decision, but from your story it seems like you’re perfectly fine living together with Riddle as roommates… why would you want to leave in the first place? I don’t get it.”

Azul’s face was frozen when he heard Kalim’s very much reasonable but inconvenient question, eyes immediately shifting left and right like a child caught putting their hand in the cookie jar.

Noticing how uncomfortable his guest had become after hearing the inquiry, Kalim desperately tried to bury the unpleasant topic and move on to the next. “Eh… did I say something wrong? Sorry, Azul, please just forget the question and move on, ahahaha… ”

Jamil, however, did just the opposite. Eyebrows raised, he focused his sight on Azul, noticing various failed attempts to cover up the shock displayed with such painful clarity that he couldn’t resist blurting out a blunt statement of his own.

“Wait. Come to think of it, I also agree with Kalim. You’re acting weird.”

“Jamil! No need to further ask him about--”

“Nope, Kalim. Please, let me finish. It might be better if we cut to the chase.” There was finality in Jamil’s tone, and Azul involuntarily flinched the instant he heard it. “Now, I think that we don’t need more prodding here, since it’s clear that you yourself know the answer already, Azul. The real question is, what’re you going to do about it? Tell him the truth, or...?” 

Azul shook his head quickly, obviously very averse to the very simple idea of just coming clear to Riddle in regards to his real intention. “Absolutely not. Anything but that… No way I’m going to tell him  _ that _ , nope.”

If earlier the one confused was only Kalim, now Jamil also looked at Azul questioningly, bamboozled at Azul’s clearly out-of-character behavior as he felt second-hand embarrassment began to creep in.  _ Wow, to think that I was outschemed so badly by him before… _

“Huh, what’s with you and this skittishness? Where does your shamelessness evaporate to when you really need it, huh!?” 

“Shut up! Don’t nag at me as if you understand!”

“Huh? Well, you’re asking for advice and this is the thank you that I got!? The hell was that!?”

“It’s complicated, okay!? I can’t just tell him like that…” Azul's voice had gotten smaller and smaller as he realized that he was losing the argument. “It’s just… “ He then gestured with his hands, trying to get his point across without laying everything bare. 

Eyebrows perked up at Azul’s showcase of hesitance, Jamil urged his guest to continue. “Just?”

Azul’s perpetually perked eyebrows were turned downward as he continued his words with a hushed voice. “... There’s this… hurdle that made that impossible…”

.

(Jamil felt a familiar pang when he heard Azul’s subdued, resigned tone. It reminded him of his own situation a few years ago, about the conflicting pulls of his fervent dreams and the ever-binding presence of his invisible, ancient, and yet incredibly powerful shackles. 

The memory was still fresh deep in Jamil’s innermost conscience, as vivid as if it had just happened yesterday: about how the contradictions between his imagined aspirations and his assigned fate bled and poisoned every aspects of his life as he let them grow, grow,  _ grow  _ until his back broke from all the pressure...

...And how he thought at that time that  _ this is it, this is how my stupid, half-lived life will end: achieving nothing that I can claim for myself, losing every single things that provided me comfort even in the midst of the suffocation that they caused. _ )

.

Jamil took his sweet, sweet time to take a good look at Azul’s silent resignation. Then, he emitted out a long, drawn out sigh.  _ Wow, never thought the day that I feel sorry for this slimy octopus would ever come. Life is indeed full of surprises. _

“Haaah… well… it’s your choice if you want to go through with it, but… just a reminder here: you can always try to talk to Riddle first, face to face just like how that guy likes it. You might be in for a surprise, y’know.”  _ I had experienced it firsthand, after all _ , Jamil didn’t say out loud. His gaze involuntarily fell onto Kalim instead, and the red eyed man gave a tender smile in return. 

“... Surprise, huh? Heh… betting all your chances in the hands of fate, not sure whether I’m going to be able to handle that...”

Kalim, who couldn’t stomach the somber atmosphere any further, decided to break the tension and patted Azul’s back, pulling him back to the present time. “Now, now, don’t stress too much about it, okay? Even though he’s a bit strict, I believe that Riddle is a nice guy. Well, he might scold you first for hiding it from him, but at least he wouldn’t ridicule you for it… he’s too earnest for that.”

_ Sorry, Kalim, I know you meant well, but…  _ that’s  _ exactly why I don’t want him to know in the first place…  _ Hearing Kalim's spot-on assessment on Riddle's earnest nature made Azul's insides clenched up uncomfortably. However, at the same time, there was a small smile appearing on Azul’s face. A tad wry, but it was a smile, nonetheless. “Ah, yes, he’s going to scold me, isn’t he… might as well prepare myself for the inevitable...”

Seeing that a bit of cheer had returned to Azul’s face, Kalim addressed his guest with an even brighter cheer. “Ahaha, you never know what fate may hold, Azul!” Tearing out a piece of pita bread, the ever-welcoming young man then ushered his distraught friend to partake in the previously untouched array of food in front of them. “Come now, all of this serious talk must have made you hungry. Let’s eat together!”

Taking the full force of Kalim’s thousand-watt smile head on, Azul’s wry smile morphed into a grin as he tried his hardest to contain bouts of giggles that threatened to surface at the whole absurdity of his own circumstances. 

_ Really, Kalim’s airheadedness is such an enviable thing… _

“What’s with that creepy grin, cut it out.” 

.

(Azul ended up finishing half of the food by himself. 

Oddly enough, for once his mind didn’t care about the calorie count.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...a little bit of detour this one chapter, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Google docs archive: *3 canon-compliant, in-universe, oneshot, almost done TWST fics WIPs lurking menacingly*
> 
> me, an intellectual: *yeets off to post a vague multichap AU*
> 
> I... have nothing to say to defend myself, really. While writing this, my stupid brain suddenly went into galaxy mode and decided to hide the identity of Riddle's roommate on a whim... argh...
> 
> Inadequate and confusing as this may be, any questions or feedbacks for this work is welcome, really.. writing Che'nya is hard...damn writer's block...
> 
> (please no harsh words though, i'm baby :''3)


End file.
